“If intrinsic motivation is one key to a child’s creativity, the crucial element in cultivating it is time: open-ended time for the child to savor and explore a particular activity or material to make it her own. Perhaps one of the greatest crimes adults commit against a child’s creativity is robbing the child of such time.” From Goleman, Kaufman and Ray (1992) The creative spirit
Overview
After Storytelling and Wondering, you may wish to allow time for individual reflection. This “worktime” is for free and open response – time to process the story and one’s reaction to it. Participants might want to explore the storytelling materials, using them to retell the story in their own words. Or they might want to use creative materials. Sometimes playing quiet music helps to remind us that this creativity time is occurring in a sacred space and for a sacred purpose. It is important that during this time there are no qualitative statements about someone’s work or judgements about what they choose to create. For more on this, please see the attached articles. Materials We suggest simple, quality materials that allow for free and creative exploration. Many of these can be found at the Dollar Store. Some examples include:
Killing or Fostering Creativity in Children (from The Second Principle, blog of Leslie Owen Wilson, Ed.D) It is perhaps ironic that within our culture we insist that we place such value on creativity and then blatantly try to steal it away from children in the contexts of their educational experiences and their upbringing. As a culture we need to finally decide what we really want for our children and then carefully design and monitor experiences which provide those things we value. Here Hennessy and Amabile (1992) identify common “creativity killers.” It is important to note that all of these “killers” are commonplace in our schools and homes.
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A LITTLE BOY by Helen Buckley
Once a little boy went to school. He was quite a little boy. And it was quite a big school. But when the little boy Found that he could go to his room By walking right in from the door outside, He was happy. And the school did not seem Quite so big any more. One morning, When the little boy had been in school a while, The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make pictures. He could make all kinds: Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats – And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw. But the teacher said: “Wait! It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make flowers, And he began to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said, “Wait! And I will show you how.” And she drew a flower on the blackboard. It was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher. “Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at the teacher’s flower. Then he looked at his own flower, He liked his flower better than the teacher’s. But he did not say this, He just turned his paper over And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem. On another day, When the little boy had opened The door from the outside all by himself, The teacher said, “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the boy. He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks – And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay. But the teacher said, “Wait! And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher. “Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish Then he looked at his own. He liked his dishes better than the teacher’s But he did not say this, He just rolled his clay into a big ball again, And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish. And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait And to watch, And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school. This school was even bigger Than the other one, And there was no door from the outside Into his room. He had to go up some big steps, And walk down a long hall To get to his room. And the very first day He was there, the teacher said, “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy, And he waited for the teacher To tell him what to do But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room. When she came to the little boy, She said, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, any way you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher, “If everyone made the same picture, And used the same colors, How would I know who made what, “And which was which?” “I don’t know,” said the little boy. And he began to draw a flower. It was red, with a green stem. |